The grape is a fickle fruit, and as hard as vintners work to
cope with the challenges of difficult weather the quality of the harvest can
vary wildly from year to year. Having the vintage of a wine identified on the
bottle is essential for the informed consumer.

The barleycorn is far more hardy, and the quality of the
harvest varies little from season to season, regardless of the vagaries of the
weather. While vintage dated single malts are uncommon, they are far from
unheard of. So, when it comes to whisky, does vintage dating serve a purpose or
is it just a marketing tactic? And most importantly, can the extra information
on the label ever be useful to the end consumer?

As The Glenrothes uses vintage dating more extensively than
any other producer of single malt scotch, this comparison/review is an ideal
opportunity to explore the topic.

Most distillers reserve the use of vintage dating for
special editions and limited release bottlings. One such example is the small
batch series from Glen Garioch. On occasion, the practice will make its way
into a producer’s standard lineup. 10 year Longrow had a run of declared
vintages from 1992-1996, but the practice seems to have been given up in more
recent bottlings. 18 year Macallan has carried a vintage date for more than two
decades, in opposition to their10 yr, 12 yr, 25 yr and 30 yr offerings. Vintage
dating is the rule rather than the exception at The Glenrothes. Instead of a
standard lineup of set age statements, they rotate through a series of
bottlings produced in different years. New vintages are released as others sell
out, and there appear to be seven choices currently available. While the
bottles don’t expressly carry an age statement, it can be easily determined as
they show a date of bottling in addition to the distillation date.

With very little (if any) variance in the quality of the
barley crop from season to season, combined with the fact that most distillers
use grain sourced from across the UK (with many importing additional barley
from mainland Europe), it would seem that vintage dating is just a marketing
tool used to make consumers seek out multiple bottlings of the same single malt
from a variety of production years. I feel that this is likely the case more
often than not, but knowing what era the liquid in the bottle hails from can be
quite useful none the less.

I’m slowly becoming fascinated with the effects that changes
in the production methods employed by distillers can have on the final product.
As time marches on, the process continually evolves at most distilleries, for
better of for worse. The following are examples of major distillery changes
that vintage dates would be helpful in identifying.

Springbank takes great pride in being the only Single Malt
Scotch made with 100% of its barley malted in-house. However, this was not the
case from 1960 until 1992, when the old floor maltings were restored. You never
really hear anything bad about this era, and Springbanks from the 1960’s are
highly revered, but that likely due to the abundance of high-quality sherry
casks available at the time.

Historically, most Scottish pot stills were direct fired by
coal (and rarely by peat), but in the 1960’s most of the industry converted to
indirect heat, via steam coils inside the stills. A handful of distillers
continue to use direct fire, but with more modern fuel oil burners. Glendronach
was the last coal fired holdout, until they converted their stills to steam
heat in 2005. The youngest Glendronach with an age statement is their 12 year,
so in 2017 it will start to become harder to tell if a bottle from that
distillery was produced in the era of direct coal heat or indirect steam heat.

For many years The Macallan was made entirely from Golden
Promise barley. But as whisky production rose and farmers switched to more
modern, higher yielding varieties, that became something that was no longer
possible to do. In most of the years since 1994, The Macallan has been produced
with between 20% and 30 % Golden Promise.

Many critics claim that Bowmore had a decade-long run of
sub-par whisky. While no one knows what the distillery was doing differently,
(and they deny that a difference even exists), vintage dates would help the
savvy consumer to avoid Bowmore from the 1980’s.

Glen Garioch is known to have had peating levels that varied
quite a bit over the last 4 dacades. This is a single malt that was
traditionally lightly to moderately peated. But then a new maltster, who had
been trained on Islay, joined the team in 1973
and the amount of peat smoke going through the malt increased dramatically during
most of the mid 1970’s. The levels gradually eased back, until 1997 when the
old floor maltings were decommissioned and the distillery began purchasing
unpeated malt.

Vintage dated single malts may be rare, but it seems to be
common for most brands to update their label design and/or bottle shape every
ten years or so. This does make it possible to at least determine what era and
older bottle has come from, in the absence of a vintage dated label.

With all that being said, I’d love to tell you that I
uncovered some paradigm shift in the production methods of The Glenrothes that
occurred between 1985 and 1998. Unfortunately this is not the case, but even if
it was, it wouldn’t be relevant as The Glenrothes aims to put out a unique
flavor profile with each vintage release. I am still pretty excited to compare
these two whiskies.

palate – light fruit and grain flavors start nicely before
being joined by a blast of vanilla, but they all fade as perfumed grassy notes
come to the fore and the whisky goes slightly out of balance.

finish – pleasantly warm and long but could use a little
more intensity of flavor toward the end.

1985

nose – berry fruit, candy corn, more masculine / spicy
perfume notes.

palate – berry compote, slightly tannic oak, becomes less
fruity and more floral as it transitions into the finish.

finish – alternating waves of heat and cinnamon spice, with
the perfumed notes as a background element that gains a little momentum in the
latter stages of the finish.

The 1985 is better balanced and has more continuity overall.
It is certainly more to my liking than the 1998, but I think this is another
example of a whisky whose house style simply doesn’t suit my personal
preference.

My little stash of oak aged beers is down to just two; their
origins may straddle the Atlantic, but they share
a common thread. The two beers are Damon from Hill Farmstead and Viola Sofia
from Grassroots Brewing. To understand the connection will take a brief history
lesson.

Over the last two and a half years Shaun Hill has emerged
from the rural Northeast Kingdom of Vermont as a preeminent craft brewer in the
United States.
But his rise to glory was preceded by a long personal journey of introspection,
philosophy, and international exploration.

A high school science project would provide his first
brewing experience and he went on to start a home-brewing club while attending
college in Boston
and studying as a philosophy major. After moving back to Vermont for a teaching job, he picked up
part time work as a keg washer at the (now defunct) Shed brewpub in Stowe. This
eventually led to Shaun taking the head brewer position at the Shed, where he
was given a good bit of creative freedom and started to make a name for
himself. He held that position for two years before going to Trout River
Brewing, where a gained more production experience for the next year.

Inspired to eventually start his own brewery during his last
year of college, Shaun began to develop a plan to turn his vision into reality
on the old family farmstead in Greensboro
VT. His original idea was to lease
a small facility in a nearby town and operate Grassroots Brewing there. Once
that operation was profitable enough, he would rebuild a barn that burnt down
on the family property in 1978 and use that space to setup Hill Farmstead
Brewery, either with the equipment from Grassroots, or possibly keeping the
Grassroots facility in operation, and running the two brands simultaneously.

But 2008/2009 brought about some significant changes in his
plan. The reputation he built and the connections he made during his time at
The Shed and Trout River led to an opportunity for Shaun to go to Denmark and be the guest head Brewer at
Norrebro, a microbrewery and restaurant in Copenhagen. During his 20 month stint there,
from March 2008 through November 2009, Shaun expanded his sphere of contacts
and friends within the industry, as well as his reputation. He also set up the
oak aging program at Norrebro, and three of the beers that resulted from that
effort ended up winning medals (2 gold, 1 silver) in the 2010 World Beer Cup in
Chicago.

While in Europe, Shaun’s
future plans went through a metamorphosis. He had established an industry
network with enough depth that he was able to raise the capital necessary to
start a brewery on the land that had been in his family since the late 1700’s,
with the intermediate step of setting up the Grassroots Brewery no longer being
necessary.

And then came another opportunity, Fano Bryghus. The Fano
Brewery, located on the opposite side of Denmark from Coppenhagen, was
established in 2006 but operated for only 2 years before going bankrupt. After
lying dormant for 6 months, the facility was purchased by Norrebro, and Shaun
found himself splitting his duties between the two breweries. It was here that
the Grassroots brand took on a new life, as Shaun began brewing his own beers
under that label in the Fano Brewery. It would become Shaun’s European brand,
brewed under contract (by him at first, and for him after he returned to the US) at Fano.

On to the beers. Viola Sofia
is an Imperial Stout that was aged for 3 months on top of cocoa nibs in Jack
Daniel’s barrels. It was brewed to celebrate the birth of a close friend’s
daughter, whom the beer is named after. Damon is an Imperial Stout brewed in
honor of his family’s Black Lab (1993 – 2004). I’m sampling the 2011 release
which was aged in Blanton’s Bourbon barrels for 8 months. Future releases of
Damon will spend time in a variety of barrels (wine, port, multiple bourbon
brands, etc) which will be bottled separately.

palate: thick in the mouth with plenty of body. the roasted
malty sweetness up front is quickly reigned in by a balancing bitter component
(I’m assuming from both hops and the cocoa nibs). a wave of chocolate flavors
builds to a crescendo on the mid-palate, only to be cast aside by the
bitterness which eventually dominates and then gently fades through the
incredibly long finish.

overall: great depth with an entertaining evolution of
flavors.

Damon

nose: dense and thick, dark and sweet

palate: viscous, syrup-like body. while there is a decent
amount of complexity, the sweetness is an overriding theme. richly toasted
malt, vanilla and dark chocolate sauce are interlaced with subtle oak notes,
and these flavors dominate until a mild wave of bitterness comes to the fore
late on the finish.

overall: well made, but a little more sweetness than I
prefer. this is a pretty big contrast to the Viola Sofia, which brings more
depth and balance to the table with its edgy bitterness.

The next group of oak aged beers lurking in my fridge comes
from across the Atlantic - Alva,
Scotland to be
exact. Ola Dubh (pronounced oh-la dew)
starts off as a higher alcohol version (8% abv instead of 6% abv) of a beer
called Old Engine Oil from the Harviestoun brewery. As for the type of beer,
the bottle I have is labeled as a Black Ale, I’ve seen bottles pictured online
that say Dark Beer, but the official website (as well as what seems to be the
current label) has it listed as a Porter.

The Ola Dubh version is then transformed by spending 6 to 8
months aging in former Highland Park
single malt scotch casks. While many oak aged beers aren’t too specific about the
former contents of the cask (bourbon, rum, pinot noir, etc), quite a few do
specify a particular distillery or winery (Jack Daniel’s, Sokol Blosser, etc), but
Harviestoun takes things a step further, producing several different expressions
of Ola Dubh, each of which has been aged in Highland Park casks that were used
for a different age variant of the single malt. The current lineup consists of
Ola Dubh aged in casks that formerly held 12 yr, 16 yr, 18 yr, 30 yr and 40 yr Highland Park.

The first thing that jumped out at me was the age numbers;
the standard Highland Park range has a 12 yr, 15 yr, 18 yr, 25 yr, 30 yr and a 40
yr, but no 16 yr. A little digging through their website revealed that the 16
yr was a Duty Free exclusive offering, which was in production from 2005
through 2010. Harviestoun must have secured quite a few of these casks.

The next question I began to ponder was whether these were bourbon
barrels or sherry casks, prior to having been filled with single malt. A good
bit of research uncovered an interesting fact, and a common misconception. I
learned that Highland Park
is aged exclusively in sherry casks, but those sherry casks come from both
Spanish oak and American oak. Many assume that the use of American oak implies
bourbon barrels, not so in this case.

A little more digging revealed that the 12 yr and 18 yr are
aged primarily in Spanish oak, with the 15 yr is aged mainly in American oak. I
didn’t come across any information about the type of wood used for the 16 yr or
any of the other expressions for that matter.

Visually, all three are essentially black, but the Engine
Oil does appear to let through a little more light than the other two.

The nose of the Old Engine Oil is more delicate than
expected, with just a little roasted malt and chocolate coming through. Comparing
the nose to that of the two Ola Dubh’s, I think there is some subtle difference
in each of them, but the aromas are just too light for the differences to be
obvious.

Engine Oil

Medium bodied (I expected it to be much more viscous, in fact;
I had it on draught last year and remember it being somewhat heavier). On the
palate roasted malt, toast, coffee and bitter chocolate all play together
fairly well. Slightly floral hop flavors evolve into hop bitterness on the
moderately long finish, adding depth and balance.

Ola Dubh 12

There’s a noticeable increase in body, I’d classify it as
medium to heavy. The first thing that jumps out at me on the palate is the peat
smoke. Sure, it doesn’t slap you in the face like a dram of Laphroaig, but it
certainly is there. The flavors are actually pretty similar to those of the Old
Engine Oil, but joined by peat smoke coming across as Lapsang Souchong tea. Compared
to the OEO, the flavors here seem to be more well-integrated.

Ola Dubh 16

I actually went into this tasting half expecting there
to be no discernable difference between this beer and the Ola Dubh 12. After
all, as I’ve discussed in recent posts, the difference in flavor between
various age expressions of a single malt can be minimal – and these beers are
aged in casks that simply used to
hold Highland Park
for varying lengths of time. But my skepticism was unfounded. The peat smoke is
there, but toned down relative to the 12yr. Also, the chocolate flavors come
across as more sweet than bitter relative to the younger cask variant. It would
be interesting to know if the casks used for the 16 yr are primarily American
oak.

As winter gently sets in, every opening of the fridge
reminds me that I have a small stockpile of beer for which the weather is
becoming most appropriate. They are all dark and heavy, and most of them have
been aged in whisk(e)y casks. A few of their non-oak-aged counterparts are in
the mix, which will make for good comparisons.

The phenomenon of oak aging beer primarily started in the
American craft brewing scene with the use bourbon barrels in the early to mid
90’s. After a slow start followed by a decade or so of steady growth, the
popularity (and production) of barrel aged beers has really taken off in recent
years. And while beer can be found slumbering in casks that formerly held
almost anything, from wine to rum to calvados to Grand Marnier, the majority of
aging is still done in whisk(e)y casks.

Of course there is more to it than simply putting any beer
in a random cask – I’ve definitely tasted a few barrel aged beers that fell
short of the mark. Beer style, former cask contents, number of times the cask
has been used, and how long the beer will be aged are all important factors.
There is definitely an art to the process.

I’m going to start off with one of the early success stories
of bourbon barrel aged beer – Founders Kentucky Breakfast Stout. I also have
the non-aged Founders Breakfast Stout to taste, but it appears that these are
two different beers - the KBS is not simply Breakfast Stout which has been
barrel aged.

The Breakfast Stout is described as a “double chocolate
coffee oatmeal stout”. The KBS may have changed recently, as the current
website description is “an imperial stout brewed with a massive amount of
coffee and chocolates, then cave-aged in oak bourbon barrels for an entire
year”, but a previous description found online calls it a “strong stout brewed
with a hint of coffee and vanilla then aged in oak bourbon barrels”

BS

appearance: black and thick

nose: full, pungent and sweet at the same time, chocolate
milk and gentle espresso.

palate: the mouth-feel is rich and thick, but not
cumbersome. good complexity with nicely evolving flavors. the coffee is obvious
but not overdone and well balanced by the dense malty flavors. interesting
interplay of bitterness from the hops, coffee and chocolate. the enduring
finish fades off very slowly.

KBS

appearance: blacker and more viscous looking when pouring

nose: intriguing, chocolate and vanilla, but it has a unique
quality that I can’t quite put my finger on.

palate: extremely dense and rich, the Breakfast Stout almost
seems watery in comparison. the flavors explode in a massive blast and continue
on in a sustained attack. syrupy chocolate, vanilla, oak, gentle spice. the
flavors evolve and mingle playfully through the long, smooth finish.

As I’ve been writing and drinking slowly the beer has warmed
up, and it seems more comfortable closer to room temp than fridge temp.

Each of these is actually a great beer in its own right. It
feels like an “apples to oranges” comparison - the KBS does things that the BS
is simply not capable of, but that doesn’t really take anything away from the
greatness of the Breakfast Stout. With the BS you get the roasty, toasty nature
as its dominant feature, whereas the KBS is defined by a thick sweetness that
is only kept in check by a chorus of elements that are able to act as a counterbalance.